


He was trying to enter me the whole time...

by SacredPorn



Category: American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Blood, M/M, Medical Kink, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2011-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SacredPorn/pseuds/SacredPorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Are you molesting an unconscious patient?" Kris slurred in amusement.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	He was trying to enter me the whole time...

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by [deannawol](http://deannawol.dreamwidth.org/) and [sbb23](http://sbb23.dreamwidth.org/) ♥ All remaining errors are mine.  
> In my mind's eye Torrance looks just like Chris Torres a.k.a. Latin Jesus, but they probably have quite different personalities.  
> Fic and title inspired by [this](http://nullrefer.com/?http://damnyouautocorrect.com/4686/a-trip-to-the-er/) hilarious auto correct.

“FUCK!”

Kris holds on to the edges of the exam table, squeezing his eyes shut and not daring to breathe, his body trying to adjust to the hard cock buried deep in his ass. He wonders how he’d gotten himself into this.

Then he feels the tingling in his left arm when he unconsciously flexes his muscles.

Oh yeah, his arm.

He had walked into the middle of some gang war on his way to the grocery store. Windows were being shattered and bottles were being thrown and somehow his upper arm got cut by a flying piece of glass. He yelped in pain, his blood streaming down his arm and dripping onto the ground. He cursed and walked as fast as he could to the only clinic in town without actually breaking into a run. _Running while bleeding is bad_ , Torrance the dodgy doctor from the fishy clinic had banged that much into his head at least.

“Lie down on the table, please,” Torrance had said after taking one took at his arm. If all the blood dripping on the floor bothered him, he didn’t show it.

Thanks to the wonder of local anesthesia, the burning pain on his arm soon turned into a blissful numbness. Kris drifted off while Torrance was stitching his arm, and woke up when he felt a pair of warm hands running up and down his thighs.

“Are you molesting an unconscious patient?” Kris slurred in amusement.

“I’m collecting payment for stitching you up,” came the answer in an equally amused tone.

“I have some cash in my wallet,” Kris said.

“And I prefer this form of payment.” Torrance emphasized by curving a palm over Kris’ crotch.

And that was how Kris ended up with a cushion between his back and the padded exam table, very naked, legs held up and spread wide by the stirrups, with Torrance’s dick hot and thick inside him.

The initial strokes burn despite Torrance’s preparations. It’s not like Kris is used to this—although he might very soon if he doesn’t get a second job fast. He tries not to think about that, and concentrates on taking deep breaths and relaxing his muscles like Torrance had told him to instead.

“That’s it, relax,” Torrance says while holding Kris’ hips with both hands, thumbs rubbing soothing circles above his groin.

Kris wants to snort because, seriously, he is not a blushing virgin who needs reassuring, thank you very much, but Torrance thrusts into him hard just then and his breath catches in his chest.

“Yeah? You like that?” Pulling almost all the way out before shoving back in, Torrance fucks into Kris with firm, sure strokes that hit all the right places and make Kris pant.

It’s the best and worst kind of tease, and Kris can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. He ends up pulling Torrance closer by the hips—this damn table and its stirrups wouldn’t give him any leverage to move his own ass—and pants out, “More.”

Torrance grins at him with a lot of teeth and gives him more—quick, heavy thrusts that pounds home again and again, and Kris is dizzy with pleasure, feeling like something is trying to explode from inside his head, so when Torrance tells him to _touch yourself_ , it takes awhile for the meaning to penetrate.

Moaning with Torrance’s every thrust now, Kris grips his own cock and starts stripping, smearing pre-cum around the head and down the shaft, making it wet and messy, filthy like the way he feels right now. The obscene sounds of their sweaty bodies slapping against each other adding to the clanging sounds of table parts grinding together are weirdly rhythmic like a song half-forming in Kris’ fucked-out brain. He tries to hold on to it but it’s slipping away, he can’t think, and oh god, yes, _there_ , _fuck_ , and his cock is jerking in his hand and his ass clenching down on Torrance hard, and Torrance may or may not have groaned, he’s not too sure. He just squeezes his eyes shut and rides the waves.

When Kris comes back to Earth, his throat is sore, and so are his ass and his legs. He doesn’t even have the energy to wince when Torrance pulls out of him. He hears the sound of running water, then Torrance comes back with a damp cloth that he uses to clean Kris up gently.

“Damn, that was hot,” Torrance says. Kris can hear the grin in his voice.

“You owe me medical service for life, man.” Kris doesn’t remember ever hearing his own voice so hoarse before.

“Yeah, whatever.” Torrance snorts, throws the cloth somewhere and starts working on the table. Kris cracks an eye open and sees that he is swinging the lower portions of the table back together, then he lifts Kris’ legs from the stirrups one by one, and lowers them onto the table carefully.

Running soothing hands up and down Kris’ legs, Torrance tells him with a smirk, “As much as I’d like you to stay out of trouble, I kind of can’t wait to see you walk through that door again. Perhaps with less bleeding.”

Kris’ lips twitch and he closes his eye. He feels Torrance opening the bandage on his arm to check on the wound, then pulling a light blanket over him. “Get some sleep. I’ll take you out to dinner when you wake up,” he tells Kris before leaving the room. And Kris drifts off almost tasting the food on his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

>  _He was trying to enter me the whole time..._ had been the working title of this fic for... _God_ , seven _months_ , and by the time I was finally ready to post the fic the title wouldn't go away. So it stayed.


End file.
